


Ink

by silentexplorer18



Category: Colby Brock - Fandom, Sam and Colby, Youtube RPF
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mild Language, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Tattoos, Writing on Skin, protective friendship, super sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentexplorer18/pseuds/silentexplorer18
Summary: When the boys notice you have a less than ideal habit, Colby, Sam, Jake, and Corey opt to clean you up and get you back on track.
Relationships: Colby Brock/reader, Corey Scherer & Reader, Jake Webber & Reader, Sam Golbach & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story deals with self-esteem issues and drawing on skin to avoid self-harming. If that topic is particularly sensitive or triggering to you, please don't read.

You took another breath, trying to steady yourself as you sat curled on the floor of your bathroom, back pressed against your smooth, white cabinets. The tile was starting to make you cold, goosebumps raising your skin, but you had a few letters left to write. It had been a rough morning, the words in your mind intermingling with the words on your Instagram feed, causing a series of sobs to wrack your body and send your half dressed body flying toward the bathroom floor, the place you found the most solitude during your sadness. By now, you’d calmed down, allowing your pen to dance across your thighs as you scrawled a few more words across your skin.

_Ugly. Fat. Stupid. Worthless. Selfish. Slut. Whore. Annoying. Inferior. Weak. Bossy. Bitch._

After another shaking breath, you capped the pen and pulled yourself into a standing position. Avoiding your tearstained gaze in the mirror, you brushed your hair and slipped on some fresh clothes. A TFIL tee, ripped acid wash jeans, and blue vans adorned your figure as you trotted out of your apartment and toward the parking lot; you’d promised to film some videos with the boys, and you intended to keep that promise.

Stepping through the cream pillars of the house instantly brought a smile to your lips and elevated your mood an infinite amount. Corey greeted you with a high pitched yell, followed by Jake tackling you in a hug and Aaron hollering a hello from the kitchen. Sam and Colby were still asleep, they said, so we could start with some of the other videos first.

So you started with an EXPOSED video with Corey. He questioned you, performing intermittent skits with Jake’s help, for what was left of the morning. It made you laugh, and the playful introspection allowed you to forget about the hellish morning you’d endured at the hands of Instagram.

Next came Jake’s video. Honestly, the video with Jake was just bizarre and ridiculous. The two of you tried cooking things with an Easy Bake Oven. If it weren’t for the lack of measurement on Jake’s part, things probably would’ve turned out somewhat okay. However, your cakes were mushy and brownie bits burnt rock hard; you’d both shoved a variety of sprinkles and bright colored frostings on top to hide the atrocious, inedible creations. Squirting frosting up toward Jake’s face for the thumbnail, Colby finally made his way down the stairs to join the land of the living, Sam following shortly after.

“Hey, (Y/n). When did you get here?” Sam asked with a smile.

You giggled. “About two videos ago. I’m thinking lunch now, what about you boys?” you asked, eyes sweeping the room.

“I’m down. Pizza?” Jake asked. Your grin was answer enough.

“Sounds good to me,” Colby said. “I’ll order.”

That’s what led to you being sat upon the kitchen counter munching on Dominoes and chatting with a few of your favorite people in the world. Corey told stories while his laptop exported a video. Jake, Colby, and Sam all talking while scrolling through their phones. Aaron had retrieved a bite to eat before retreating to his room to do a stream. Despite the influx of technology during lunch, the five of you were conversing and laughing up a storm. For a moment, everything was absolutely perfect as you realized how truly happy you were feeling; you’d made a family out here in L.A. unlike anything you’d ever experienced before back home.

At least, that was until Jake came up for his next slice of pizza. You’d been listening to Corey go on about some video concept when Jake’s voice broke through your concentration. “(Y/n), why do you have ‘worthless’ written on your knee?”

The room went silent as your body stiffened. You’d thought the rips in your jeans were low enough to hide the writing you’d performed as an act of desperation earlier.

Apparently you’d thought wrong.

They were staring at you. All of them. Feeling heat rise to your cheeks, your eyes dragged down to the rip in your jeans Jake was referring to. Sure enough, sitting with your feet dangling from the counter, the word ‘worthless’ was framed perfectly by the taunt fabric.

“Um, well, uh,” you felt your voice catch slightly as nervousness invaded your body, “it’s an old habit I picked up a while back.”

Sam and Colby had neared you now, wanting to view the dark scrawl for themselves. “Habit?” Sam asked.

“What kind of habit is that? Why would you write something so shitty on yourself?” Jake asked, voice bubbling as he grew upset.

“It’s _nothing_. Just a habit,” you tried to stress, hopping off the counter.

“Are there more?” Corey asked, rising from his seat.

Your eyes shot down to your feet, answering your question before you had the ability to speak for yourself.

“Take them off,” Jake said, a sure air rising from his lungs.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take them off.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me right now.”

“I don’t think he is,” Sam interjected, making you glare.

Colby’s eyes shot up to yours, “Is there something else you don’t want us to see?”

Snarkily, you retorted. “Yeah my fucking lace panties.”

Sam turned on his heel, running up the stairs before returning a minute later and chucking a pair of green swim trunks at you. “These are the best we’ve got, but they should work well enough.”

Scrunching your nose, you looked between him and the suit. “Hasn’t somebody’s junk been in this?”

“No. They’re a spare in case we have guests come over. Put ‘em on.”

“I’m _not_ doing this.”

“Well fine!” Corey shouted, grabbing you at the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Corey, what the fuck are you _doing_?” I shouted back.

“Helping you!”

He and the other guys ran outside, you in tow. Before your feet were placed back on solid ground, Jake grabbed the hose and turned it on. “Put those on or I’m gonna spray you,” he threatened.

“We aren’t doing this, Jake.”

Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. The water splashed against your body, creating a damp spot from your stomach to your knees.

“Oh no you didn’t.”

Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

“Jake!” While you were busy trying to yell at the stupid, stupid boy, you hadn’t realized Corey had slipped into the house behind you. That is, you didn’t notice until a rush of water had poured down your hair. The ass had grabbed a cup of water and dumped it on you, soaking your hair and torso in the process. “Damn it, Corey!” you roared, whirling on him. His eyes went momentarily wide, but as you turned, you couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling from your lips at the absurdity of it all. Jake squirted you again, but they were all laughing at your hysterical giggles.

“Take your damn pants off.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shouted out, “Okay, fine! But you guys can’t say anything.” Flipping open the button on your jeans and looping your fingers in the sides, you yanked the fabric off, denim pooling at your feet. You were left in a pair of red lace panties. Granted, they were still brief cut, but that didn’t mean that more of you was exposed than what would ordinarily be desirable. Blushing, you looked up, expecting to see their disapproving gazes fixated on the thin red sheet between your most intimate area and their eyes; however, that wasn’t the case. Their eyes were trained on the black lettering that adorned your thighs. The thick, chunky ink danced across your skin, highlighting so many insecurities you’d previously kept hidden.

“Ugly habit,” Jake reiterated.

“I’ve seen worse,” Colby muttered. You’d barely caught the words, but before you could query further, Sam had neared toward you.

“I think we’re gonna need more than a hose.”

“Guys, I’m putting my pants back on and then I’m going home.”

With a small smirk, Colby said, “Nope.” Pulling his pants off, shirt never having been on, he came even closer than Sam. “I think you’re right, brother. This needs more than a hose.” Racing forward and grabbing you, he hiked you over his shoulder, making a mad dash for the pool.

“Colby, _no_!” you shrieked, but it was too late. Before you could protest any further, you both were gone, submerged under the water. Rising to the surface, you splashed him, trying to hide your giggles with a glare but failing miserably.

The rest of the boys soon followed, jumping in and waging a full fledged splash war. They kept you in the water for quite a while, making complete fools out of themselves. When they finally relented, letting you emerged from the cool blue water, there were only a few little ink smears left on your flesh, the liquid having worn the rest of it away.

“Happy?” you asked, quirking a brow.

“Yup,” Jake said, popping the _p_ sassily.

Grinning, Corey hopped from the pool, too. “I think we can chalk this up to a win.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing down to Sam and Colby. Sam nodded approvingly at your thighs while Colby treaded up the stairs beside you. “Looking good,” he winked, shaking his dark hair in your direction.

An hour later, you were showered and lounging in a pair of Colby’s athletic shorts and his tee shirt, damp clothes laying outside to dry in what was left of the sunlight. You and Corey were watching Aaron play Rocket League, the battle a true emotional rollercoaster as he came inches away from victory before angrily failing.

Messing on your phone, you’d snuck into the kitchen to grab another slice of pizza. It was already six, and you were starting to grow hungry from your afternoon of impromptu swimming. Taking your last bite of the crust, your phone sent a buzz your direction. Glancing down, you saw a new text.

> Colby: Hey, u still here?
> 
> You: Yeah. U ok?
> 
> Colby: Come up here for a sec?
> 
> You: I’ll be up in a min

After sucking down another slice of pizza, you turned from the kitchen and wandered up the wooden steps to the second floor. Knocking quickly on his door, you stepped inside, letting the knob click shut behind you. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said gently, whirling his desk chair around to greet you. “I just wanted to talk for a sec if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, totally. What’s up?” you asked, plopping down on his unkempt duvet.

A blush rose to his cheeks as he realized what he was about to say. “I just… I wanted to ask if you were doing okay,” he rushed out.

“Yeah. Why?” you queried, eyeing him uneasily.

Clasping his hands together, you heard the metallic clink of his rings meeting on his fingers. “I know what that habit is. I’ve heard about it before. You write or draw on your skin to keep yourself from doing,” he paused, awkwardly looking for the right word, “damage.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized that he knew your secret. “I’m okay, Colby. It’s just my way of coping. I’m fine.”

“Coping with what?”

Your eyes met his as you realized he wasn’t someone you could lie to. He would see through the simple assurances of being okay and whispered promises that you’d never do it again. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you opened Instagram to your latest photo. You’d recently done a photoshoot to show off some cute bralettes, matching it with some skinny jeans and an awesome hairdo. Opening the comments, you shoved the device into his hands.

Look at her fat ass.So ugly.Where are her boobs?She doesn’t have anything to show off.What do the boys see in her?U ugly?Dumb.Hate this.Fat.Stupid.Looks like a slut.

Colby clicked the phone off, eyes connecting with yours in the lamplight. “Don’t look at stupid shit like that.” Moving to your side, he gently wrapped his arms around you. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. _So_ beautiful I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. You’re so amazing, and I hate that not everyone can see it. Please don’t hurt yourself because of some stupid, worthless comments from people who have no idea how awesome you are.”

“I’m not hurting myself, Colbs,” you tried to remind him.

“ _No_ ,” he said pulling back. “Just because you’re not causing physical pain doesn’t mean you’re not hurting yourself. Don’t let those awful words get to you.”

“But those words are true.”

He laughed. “No, they aren’t. There’s not a word in the English language good enough to describe just how completely incredible you are.”

Pulling you against his chest again, you muttered words back and forth for the rest of the evening. As you were growing sleepy, Colby offered to go down to find food for the both of you to eat. By the time he returned, Postmates in hand, he was greeted by your exhausted form snuggled under his sheets fast asleep. You’d slipped on one of his hoodies while you’d been talking earlier, and it made you look even more adorable. Your fingertips barely poked out of the oversized fabric, head snuggled against the pillow as your body formed a ball. Hair curling around your face, you had a look of pure contentment etched into your features.

Grabbing his phone from the desk, he snapped a few photos, choosing the cutest before opening Instagram to post it. “Never seen something so beautiful. Enjoy, and send some love toward @yourname. She’s truly the coolest girl I’ve ever met.” Hitting post, he snuck back down the stairs to devour his food, knowing he would be so mad with himself if he woke you up.

Since that day, the boys complimented you a little extra, especially Colby. They would take cute selfies with you and post them online, captioning something about how awesome or cool or funny you are. Occasionally they caught you with a few words scrawled across your legs, but the frequency of both the ink and the number of words used diminished time by time.

Sometimes the boys wouldn’t catch you in the act, but you’d still find yourself wandering up to Colby’s room late in the evening to tell him about the markings on your legs. He would reassure you that you were doing better, offer you encouragement, and find a damp towel in the bathroom. After you’d slipped of your jeans or leggings, he’d rub the cloth across your bare thighs, removing the pen from your body and reminding you how gorgeous you really are. Although his cheeks would turn slightly pink and he would always joke that you didn’t have to put your pants back on, he never took things farther than that, allowing you to dress yourself again and tossing the towel into the shower.

When he would return, he would climb into bed, holding both arms out with a smile. “How about we cuddle the haters away?” he would suggest, smiling when your body fit perfectly against his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After bringing some much needed positivity to your life, the boys decide to take your inking habit to the next level with some ink of their own.

Honestly, you really didn’t remember how this idiotic idea came into plan, but somehow you were here anyway, sitting on a chair blindfolded as your friends whispered excitedly amongst themselves.

It had been a few months since you’d admitted to writing the hateful words across your flesh, and someone’s joke about how you loved being “inked” soon evolved into this hairbrained scheme. Maybe it was the allure of views or the complete stupidity of the event that made you agree to do it, but, regardless, it was a little late to back out now.

“Needle,” you heard a deep voice mumble before the stinging emerged. It wasn’t the first time today you’d felt it, having been at the tattoo parlor for a few hours now. At least, being blindfolded made it seem like a few hours.

The boys had all gotten to pick something, except for Aaron, who hadn’t been a member of the anti-ink swimming party those few months ago. That was the gist and the utter clickbait of it all added to the allure; all of the boys got to pick something, within reason, that would be legit tattooed on your body. They had to be small and you got to approve the placement, but you had no clue what they were putting on your body.

They’d come that day full of excitement, wielding their cameras like giddy children rather than YouTubers. Oh so luckily for you, that would mean you would get the pleasure of being nauseous reviewing the unsteady footage later.

But for now, you were just a blindfolded girl being tattooed. Yeah, like that’s a less nauseating thought.

After what felt like a few more hours, several spots of your body had been wrapped, and the boys had lead you, blindfolded, mind you, to the car. They insisted you needed to do the big reveal in the house where the lighting would be better and they’d be able to film your reaction a little more clearly.

So, stumbling, they’d led you inside the house. With Sam cheering a countdown, the blindfold was ripped from your eyes. Momentarily stunned from the light, you did nothing more than blink at them before your eyes traveled down your body.

“Okay, who did what?” you asked.

“Guess!” Jake shouted.

Rolling your eyes, you looked from body part to body part. There was an X on your wrist, some sort of messy writing on your thigh, a star on your ankle, and the word Hope on your other forearm.

“Hmm,” you began, eyes trailing the items. “I’m guessing the X was either Sam or Colby. But I don’t know about the rest.” Bending, you looked at the star. “Did Corey put a star on my foot?”

“No!” Jake and Corey shouted simultaneously, both having offended looks written across their faces.

“It’s mine,” Jake said confidently. You arched your brow and he continued, “You’re a star, (Y/n). And also it looks kinda like the starfish from Spongebob.”

You chuckled, eyes trailing the three items that were left. “Then I’m guessing Corey’s the source of my hope?”

“Damn strait.”

You laughed at his cocky grin. “What’s my leg say?” You bent in closer, gaze following the loopy letters. “I hold beauty in every ounce of my being. There isn’t a word in any language that could describe just how incredible I am.” Your eyes shot up to Colby. “This is real?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. He smiled bashfully, noticing the confused glances the boys shot in your direction. “You shouldn’t have.”

“You guessed right, I did the X,” Sam piped in, but you were already walking toward Colby, wrapping him in the tightest hug you could muster.

“Sorry I wrote in your spot,” he whispered against your hair. “I figured you needed a reminder more than you needed a place to write.”

“It’s perfect,” you breathed. “But does this mean I can’t come over when I’m down anymore?”

Smiling, he pressed his lips gently to your forehead. “Come over whenever. I’ll always be here.”

“Thank you.”

“But, you know. I like you happy, too. You could also come over when you’re happy.”

Grinning, you whispered, “I’d like that.” Pulling away, you noticed the rest of the boys’ awkward stares. Leaning against Colby, his arm snaked its way around your shoulder. “Pizza?”

Colby stepped behind you, resting his chin atop your head. “I think it’s somebody else’s turn to order. Every time I do, you fall asleep before the food gets here.”

“Fine,” you pouted, pulling out your phone to order delivery. “But that means I’m not taking a nap in your bed.”

Snatching your phone out of your grasp, he hit the dial button and walked into the other room to make the call. “Hey, Dominoes? I’d like three large…”

Turning back to the boys, you smiled. “Thanks for helping me, guys.”

Sam smiled, eyes travelling to the black marks across your flesh. “You’re stuck with us forever now.”

“I suppose that’s good,” you paused, “Maybe.”

“Just be glad you had me around,” Corey said. “Jake was gonna give you a fucking tramp stamp.”  
“Jake!”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, it would make for great clickbait and a perfect first date story. You’d get all the men.”

As Colby padded into the room, he slung his arm back around your shoulder. “Eh. Tramp stamps aren’t really my thing. And that tattoo parlor wasn’t our first date,” he winked.

“I don’t think that’s what he meant, Colbs.” 

Colby rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got all the ink you need already.”

A soft smile adorned your lips as your eyes grazed down to Colby’s handwriting permanently across your leg. “Yeah. I think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://silentexplorer18.tumblr.com/). I love hearing from you all! I hope you're having a lovely day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. You can also pop over and say hello on [Tumblr](https://silentexplorer18.tumblr.com/) if you'd like. And, of course, if you or someone you know is struggling with self-esteem issues or self-harming, please seek _safe _resources for you or that person. Even if something may not seem okay right now, things will get better.__


End file.
